The long train drew slowly into the depot. Its occupants poured out until the small platform was filled to overcrowding. Robert Rennie, accompanied by a slender man dressed in a tweed suit and cap, pushed his way through the crowd to Donald’s side.
Donald greeted his employer, then glanced casually at Mr. Rennie’s companion. His eyes widened. “Mr. Wainwright!” he gasped.
Wainwright laughed happily as he wrung Donald’s hand.
“Is—is Con—Miss Wainwright with you?” stuttered Donald.
Then he saw her.
Connie had rehearsed this moment a thousand times. She stood quietly on the steps for a moment, then slipped gracefully to the platform, Connie herself could not have imagined how changed she was. From coiffure to dainty French heels she was dressed as if fresh from the hands of an expert Parisian costumer. So dazzling was she that she positively took Donald’s breath away. It seemed to him that she had grown like a magic rose, all at once from a tiny bud to a full blossom. No fault could be found with the perfect oval of her face, or with the delicate white rose skin, from which every trace of tan had gone. The long lashes that fringed her big blue eyes had turned a shade darker than the curling waves of her abundant golden hair.
Andy, whose small form had been hidden in the rear, moved bashfully forward, fumbling the wide hat held in his hand. “ ’Ello, Connie,” he blurted, his lips parted in a wide smile of welcome.
Instantly Connie forgot her assumed dignity and became her warm, impulsive little self. With a glad cry she flung her arms about Andy’s neck and kissed him.
“Strike me pink!” breathed Andy, as his hand stole up to touch the spot where Connie’s lips had brushed his cheek.
Connie turned to face the lake. “Oh, Dad!” she cried in ecstasy, “isn’t it good to be back here again?” She stretched her arms toward the ice-clad peaks. A gentle breeze swept down the wooded slope to fan her face as though in welcome. The blood surged beneath her smooth white skin and went singing through every vein. “Ah!” she sighed happily, as she inhaled a deep breath of air laden with the odour of pine from the hills she loved. Donald, gazing at her hungrily, saw tears brimming under her long lashes.